999 OCTILLION SOULS, May 17, 2024
I FLIGHT
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TRANSLATOR'S NOTE:The following information is derived from Information Seed 40 and received by the Gravitational Wave Observatory. I and AI performed a frequency analysis on it. IE edited certain parts to make them more 'readable'. (He might have overdone it.) Please feel free to comment.11
In The Rusty Starfish recommended by the Cheshire cat, the stench of stale synth beer and desperation clung to the air like a second skin. Legume, her cloak pulled tight, scanned the dimly lit cantina, her heart hammering a frantic tattoo against her ribs. It wasn't the usual clientele of weary spacers and down-on-their-luck mechanics that made her uneasy. It was the hulking figures in the corner booth, their faces obscured by shadow and wide-brimmed hats.
Their laughter, a harsh, guttural sound, sent shivers down Legume's spine. The way they casually dismantled their PLAM rifles, the glint of stolen jewels adorning their fingers – it all screamed "pirate." Legume cursed her luck. This supposed "safe haven" for refugees was a den for scum. The cat had not prepared her for this. Was said entity sadistic?
otavio_br: PLAM?
translator: we think plasma, lasers, and antimatter
IE: or only plasma and antimatter
prof_sparky: the antimatter provides energy through annihilation with matter, creating the plasma indirectly, maybe the lasers are used for targeting
Little Charlotte, oblivious to the danger, tugged at Legume's sleeve. "Par Org, can we get a space slug, beh?" she whispered, her eyes wide and hopeful.
Legume's heart ached. The synthetic, gooey candy was a poor substitute for real food, but it was all they could afford.
The discordant notes of a tinny piano melody grated against Legume's already frayed nerves. In the corner, a battered automaton, its chrome plating dull and scratched, lurched back and forth on a makeshift platform. Its single, grimy claw hammered at the keys, producing a caricature of a popular ballad from the core systems. A few patrons, mostly those several drinks deep, attempted to sing along, their voices a cacophony that rivaled the robot's performance. Five skinny slave girls from different species danced like broken puppets blown by the wind. What if C ended up like them?
Pirates' refuge found,
Cantina echoes tales told,
Spaceport's wild embrace.
Legume couldn't tear her gaze from the four figures dominating a corner booth. Unlike the other patrons, their laughter wasn't fueled by alcohol. It held a cruel edge, a mockery that sent shivers down Legume's spine. Their leader, a Lemivio with a mangled cybernetic eye and hyena-like face, slammed an empty mug on the table. The sound echoed through the din, momentarily silencing the robot pianist.
"Here's to the glorious Grand Empire," the Lemivio said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. The others in the booth, a hulking Bear with a cybernetic arm and scars and two humans adorned with gaudy cybernetic implants raised their mugs in a sardonic toast.
Legume flinched. The Grand Empire, with its suffocating bureaucracy and ironclad control, was a constant pain, but here, in this den of outcasts, it was a source of bitter amusement. What had the GE done to them?
The Lemivio continued, his voice laced with venom. "By the galaxy, may their bloody Dyson Swarms choke on their self-importance."
A coarse guffaw erupted from the Bear, sending shivers down Legume's spine. The Grand Empire, for all its faults, offered a semblance of order in this vast galaxy. Here, amidst the flickering lights and drunken brawls of The Rusty Starfish, Legume was acutely aware of the alternative – a galaxy ruled by pirates and thugs, laughing in the face of any semblance of authority.
The cantina door whooshed open, admitting a flurry of activity. A group of spacers, boisterous and loud, swaggered in, momentarily distracting Legume from the pirates. It was a risky gamble, but Legume saw her chance.
"Here, C," she murmured, slipping the last space slug into Charlotte's hand. "Eat slowly, ‘K?"
Charlotte nodded, her mouth already half-full of the gooey treat.
Legume stood, her voice barely a whisper. "Stay here." Before Charlotte could protest, Legume melted into the throng of spacers, her cloak swallowing her whole.
ru_mikhail: worse parent ever
She traversed the crowded cantina, her senses on high alert. The pirates, their attention diverted by the newcomers, seemed oblivious to her movement. A surge of adrenaline propelled Legume towards the back exit. She pushed through the heavy door, the cool night air flooding her lungs.
Freedom was short-lived. A gruff voice rasped behind her. "Leaving so chomping soon?"
Legume whirled around, her hand instinctively reaching for the concealed Qeerav steel dagger strapped to her thigh.
The hulking Bear from the bar loomed over her, a cruel smile twisting his scarred face. Why had he followed her? "Don't worry, li’l hobbit," he chuckled, his voice dripping with malice. "Let’s chat."
“Amai, my child and I need to leave the double dam swarm.”
“You have creds?”
“Suns and moons, Cat tol’ me—”
“Price went up. GE askin’ ‘bout ya.”
Legume frowned. “Doesn't matter. We dead. You too. GE—”
“BS. You have creds, female?”
“Show ya somethin’. ” Legume performed the required gesture for her stolen bracelet. Another Sin. A hologram of the zonked Baron Mayor Drel popped into existence. He talked about genocide and things too fantastic and horrible no one wanted to hear.
The Bear locked eyes with Legume. “This legit?” he asked.
“ ‘Course.”
“You have bloody proof?”
“This is it, friendo.”
“Rigardus like BS.”
How was Legume supposed to convince the alien? “What ya gotta lose? You paid already.”
“Need more.”
“Ask Cat.” Legume had no idea what or who the Cat was, but the pussy clearly was not without money.
hatmaker_H: a billionaire
“BRB.” The Bear turned around and strode into the cantina.
Where was he going? Would the Bear betray Legume? Would he deliver her to the Grand Empire?
Moments later he returned. “A Wugum will smuggle ya on his ship.”
cosmos_boss: Wugums are the trolls, right?
gwo_fr_5: troll-like